Waiting there in the doorway, with Teresa, Charlie couldn't help but feel anxious.
"He walked all the way here from town-" Charlie was saying.
"We don't know that it's him," Teresa reminded.
"I recognize his voice. The way he was singing that tune," Charlie insisted.
"Well, if it is him, Johnny will find that out," Teresa said.
Neither one of the girls heard Murdoch's stealthy approach from behind. His big bulk was there, next to them, and
he said, "What is it, girls?"
"We heard someone," Teresa spoke up, turning to look up at Murdoch. "Johnny went to see."
"It's Burl, Murdoch," Charlie said, slipping her hand into his.
"She keeps insisting that-but it's not certain," Teresa said.
"It is!" Charlie said.
"I'll make some coffee," Teresa said, and left them, going towards the kitchen.
Charlie squeezed Murdoch's hand. She couldn't help the worrisome feelings she was having.
Murdoch squeezed her hand in return. "Everything will be fine," he said.
There was the sound, seeming far off, of hollering, though the words could not be made out.
Murdoch dropped her hand, and went back inside, going to take a rifle from the gun rack.
Charlie watched him do that, and then he came to pause beside her. "Stay here with Teresa," he said.
Charlie wondered that he was taking his rifle, but didn't ask what she wanted to. For the first time she realized that
Murdoch was fully dressed, down to the boots on his feet. She thought of Johnny, out there in his bare feet and no shirt. She
was cool, just standing here as she was. Johnny must be very chilled, by now.
Thinking of that, she was startled back to the 'now', when Murdoch said, "Charlie? Do you hear?"
Charlie nodded in answer. And then, Murdoch was gone, just as Johnny had.
She stood there and listened, but could hear nothing by the way of human shouts. She went inside, closing the door, and up the stairs to
Johnny's bedroom swiftly. She rummaged in his bureau drawers, finding a shirt, and then a pair of woolen socks, and
his boots, which looked as though they'd been dropped carelessly by the bed. Scooping all of that up in her arms, she
ran back down the stairs again.
Teresa was just coming from the kitchen. "What's all that?" she asked.
"Johnny's socks and boots. And a shirt-" Charlie began. "His feet have to be getting cold by now-"
"They probably are," Teresa said, sounding regretful. "But, it's not as though you can take them to him now. We'll just have to
wait. He can soak them in some hot water later. Where's Murdoch?"
"He went out there, too," Charlie said. She squeezed Johnny's boots tighter to her chest.
Teresa went to lift the window curtain again, peering out.
"I wish Scott was home," Charlie said, wistfully.
Teresa dropped the curtain, turning to face Charlie. "I know," she said.
"I think it's-well, it's just wrong that we have to just wait here like this!" Charlie said. "Just because we're
girls," Charlie said, in agitation.
"I know," Teresa said, again. "But, that's the way that it is."
"Well-it's wrong, and it's stupid!" Charlie said.
"Put all that down, and we'll have some hot chocolate while we wait," Teresa suggested. And, she suggested it in that tone,
(or so it seemed to Charlie), that she was trying to pacify, to soothe, to 'settle ruffled feathers'.
"I don't want any stupid hot chocolate," Charlie said, barely restraining herself from stamping her foot. "I want to do something!"
Charlie exchanged a long look with Teresa, that had the beginnings of a stand-off. She flung Johnny's belongings onto a chair
near the window, and went to pull open the front door again.
Teresa was there, at her side, with a swiftness that surprised Charlie.
"You can think about going out, following Johnny and Murdoch. You can think about it all that you want to. But, you'd better
not follow thru on that and actually do it. Do you understand me, Charlie?" Teresa said, in as furious a tone as Charlie had
ever heard from her, and clutching a full handful of Charlie's nightgown, as if to restrain her.
"How are you going to keep me from it?" Charlie challenged, though she had no real plans to run out into the night. Not really. "Are you
going to sit on me, or something?"
"If I have to, I will," Teresa said, her eyes snapping. "And, that's because we don't know what's really happening, or if
Burl is himself or if he's a danger to himself or someone else. He might have a gun of his own with him. Did you think of that?"
Charlie hadn't thought of that, specifically. At Teresa's words, she felt all that righteous emotion leave her in a whoosh. Leaving
only, instead, the high anxiousness, and worry.
"He mightn't intend to hurt you, but there's always a chance," Teresa went on, relentless in her scolding. "Not to mention that
you'd earn yourself a good walloping from all three of the men in this house-and I wouldn't try to help you when it was time
for them to hand it out, either!"
"Alright," Charlie conceded in defeat. "I'm not going to do anything, Teresa."
Still holding onto the grip of Charlie's nightgown, as if she didn't quite believe her, Teresa was giving Charlie a
big-sisterly glare.
"I'm not, Teresa. I promise," Charlie said.
"Alright," Teresa said, and released her hold.
Charlie sighed and the two girls exchanged a long look.
"Let's sit out here on the bench together," Teresa said, and that's what they did. Charlie wasn't certain how much time
had passed, when they heard the sound of an approaching horse and rider.
It was Scott. He rode to the corral, and both girls stood up, going to the edge of the courtyard.
"Scott," Teresa called out, and immediately Scott came striding over to where they were standing.
"What are you two doing out here?" he demanded.
"Waiting for Johnny, and Murdoch. We heard someone outside, and they went to see about it," Teresa explained.
"What did you hear?" Scott asked.
"Singing," Teresa said.
"Singing?" Scott asked, sounding surprised, and as if he might have misheard her.
"Yes," Teresa said.
Charlie, who'd been still up until this moment, stepped closer and wove her fingers thru Scott's belt loops. "And hollering," she added. "And I saw somebody,
too. Walking towards the fields."
"How long ago?" he asked crisply.
"Johnny's been gone-about an hour or so, probably," Teresa said. "Murdoch a bit after that. We haven't heard anything
for a long time."
"Alright. I'll go see what I can find out," Scott said, and turned to walk back to his horse, that he'd left by the corral. Charlie
ran after him, her feet hitting the cool ground.
"It's Burl, Scott," she said, and he turned to look down at her, his expression visible only in the moonlight. "He came all the way
out here from town-the deputy wasn't watching him, or something! He must want to talk to us very much!"
"Well, if it is him, we'll find him," Scott said, sounding calm.
"Johnny doesn't have socks or boots on," Charlie said. "I brought them down-they're on the chair just inside. Do you want them?"
"Yes. Quickly go and get them," he answered.
Charlie ran as fast as she was able, rushing past Teresa and inside, gathering up the socks and boots, and the shirt, as well.
She went back to where Scott was, mounted on his horse. He took the things from her, and then wrapped the shirt around the
socks and boots and tied it at the top so that it would be easier to hold as he rode.
After that, the two girls sat some more. Teresa went off to the kitchen, returning to the outside bench carrying
two cups of hot chocolate. Handing one off to Charlie, they sat in the night quiet.
Finally, they heard the sounds of approaching male voices. And then Scott rode in, going to the corral, someone on the
saddle behind him. On foot, Murdoch and Johnny weren't far behind.
"Scott has Burl with him," Charlie determined, even though she could not see a clear view of exactness.
She would have run across the courtyard to greet Scott and Burl, too, if Teresa hadn't been standing beside her,
with a deterring hand on Charlie's arm.
"Wait," Teresa said.
She sounded odd to Charlie, and, looking up at the older girl, Charlie saw something on Teresa's face. A look of
wariness, nearly.
"What?" Charlie asked, but by that time Murdoch and Johnny had reached Scott, and he basically lowered Burl
to the ground, into Murdoch's arms. Stood up between Johnny and Murdoch, and made to walk, Burl seemed to have
difficulty in doing so.
He was more trudging than walking, and with considerable assistance from Murdoch and Johnny.
"What's wrong with him?" Charlie wondered aloud.
"Likely he's tuckered out," Teresa said, though she didn't sound positive.
"Maybe he's drunk," Charlie said.
"Charlie-"
"Well. He could be," Charlie insisted.
"I've made coffee," Teresa offered, as the three men reached the front door.
"Good," Murdoch said.
Johnny was, Charlie saw, wearing the boots and shirt that she'd gathered up for him.
"We'll take him to the library," Murdoch said. "Try and get some coffee and food into him. Teresa, can you see about
some sandwiches?"
"Yes. Of course," Teresa said, and whirled away.
Burl had his head down, as if studying his feet, and he was mumbling something not easily understandable to
Charlie.
"Is he alright?" Charlie asked.
"He's cold, but he's alright," Murdoch said.
Charlie studied Burl's clothing as she followed the trio to the library. He was in, she thought, the same clothes as he'd been
wearing earlier. Nothing unusual about that, of course, but they were now even more tattered, and covered in stick tights. He was
dirty, and smelly. And, he was wearing no shoes.
Once in the library, Murdoch and Johnny lowered Burl into the large chair by the fireplace. Burl sank back into the leather of
the chair, still mumbling to himself.
"Get that footrest, will ya, pequeno?" Johnny said, and Charlie scurried to obey.
Once she pushed it over to them, Johnny lifted Burl's feet to put them on the footstool.
"Once he warms up a bit, we'll get that jacket off of him," Murdoch was saying.
Charlie studied Burl. Odd though the man could be, and she had seen him in many moods and varying personas, he
seemed even more different right now. She leaned from her waist to peer at him.
Her greeting of 'hello, Burl' went unanswered, and unacknowledged. Burl continued to mumble, working his
knotty hands together, as a person would do if trying to warm themselves.
Scott had come in now, going to pour a snifter of whiskey, and bringing it to hand it to Murdoch, who raised it to Burl's lips,
and the old man seemed satisfied, sipping at it.
"Pour me one of those, will ya, Scott," Johnny said. "I'll go put some water on to heat for his feet," he said, and
disappeared.
"Charlie, go and gather a towel or two," Murdoch said, taking the second glass Scott offered him, and swigging it down.
Charlie went swiftly upstairs, to the linen closet, and took down two towels, returning to the library in record speed.
"Lay them in front of the fire, there," Murdoch instructed. As Charlie was doing that, Teresa came in, with a platter
of sandwiches. Ham, and roast beef with cheese, on thick slices of Maria's homemade bread. And coffee, with several cups.
"Thank you, darling," Murdoch told her, as Charlie bent again to address herself to Burl.
"Burl, hello-"
"He's not likely to answer you," Murdoch told her, as he pulled a chair over closer to Burl's, and took the cup of
coffee that Teresa had poured.
"Let's have some of this coffee," Murdoch said, guiding the cup up to Burl's mouth.
After a sip or two, Burl pushed the cup away with enough force to spill half of the contents. "They was tryin' to
poison me," he said, raising his head to look into Murdoch's.
"Nobody here is trying to poison you," Murdoch told him.
"Who you be?" the old man asked, looking confused.
"Murdoch Lancer," Murdoch said.
"I know no one by that name," Burl said.
Charlie watched from a few feet away, feeling anxious and somewhat horrified, as Burl continued to maintain that
he did not know them, and gave the hot coffee that was brought to his lips another slap, spilling the remainder over
his own legs and Murdoch's shirt front.
"Here, now-" Murdoch began.
"Let me try, Murdoch," Johnny said. And, then, with an ease that surprised his father, and everyone else in that
room, Johnny took Murdoch's vacated seat on the foot stool, in front of the old man.
"Pour some more coffee in here, Teresa," Johnny said, holding out the nearly empty cup.
When Teresa had done so, Johnny lifted the cup of steaming coffee to Burl's mouth.
"Have some coffee," Johnny said.
"More whiskey. Not coffee," Burl mumbled.
"Coffee now. More whiskey later," Johnny said, in that same gentle tone.
Burl accepted Johnny holding the cup to his mouth, and drank some of the coffee. The towels, warm from being in front of the
fire, were brought and arranged over Burl's feet.
Johnny was cajoling Burl to take more coffee, when the old man raised his head for the first time since he'd come into the
room. Charlie, who'd been standing back a bit, beside Murdoch, saw Burl looking directly at her. The old man's wrinkled
face lit up in a smile, and it made Charlie feel glad just to see it.
He recognized her now. His 'memory lapse' had passed, Charlie thought.
Burl reached out a knotty hand to Charlie, and she stepped forward, beginning to take it.
"Where have you been?" he asked her, his expression changing from happy to sorrowful. "I was looking everywhere
for you!"
Startled, a bit, Charlie felt him squeeze her hand in a grip that was harder than what she'd given him credit for.
"I've been right here," she said in answer.
"I didn't know-" Burl began, and then began to pull at Charlie until she was sitting on the footstool beside Johnny.
"I thought you'd gone," Burl went on, and now he was smiling again. "But, you're here. I have things to talk with you
about."
Charlie nodded, and started to answer, but then she went silent, as did the rest of the room, when Burl touched
Charlie's cheek with one knotted finger. "My sweet Lettie," he crooned softly. "Don't go far away from me."
Lettie. The mysterious Lettie. Charlie looked to her right at Johnny, and then upwards towards Scott, and Murdoch.
Lancer